I'll Be Home Soon
by headwonk
Summary: Trapped in a hospital that performs illegal experimets on all kinds of species, the Doctor has to bide her time wisely before escaping. Featuring Captain Jack Harkness and a guest appearance from Martha Jones later on. Whump.
1. Chapter 1

**I'll Be Home Soon**

**Summary: Trapped in a hospital that performs illegal experimets on all kinds of species, the Doctor has to bide her time wisely before escaping. Featuring Captain Jack Harkness** **and a guest appearance from Martha Jones later on.**

**A/N: Loosely based around Vanessa Ives' stay at the asylum in Penny Dreadful.**

Chapter One:

With heavy breaths, the Doctor once again attempted to sit up, to do _something_, only to find she still couldn't move. Her wrists and ankles were red raw from pulling and yanking against the leather straps that bound her to the table, and her throat hurt from screaming in agony. In her long, long life, the Doctor had faced many kinds of torture, of pain and desperation, but never anything like this. Whatever 'this' was, anyway. She had no idea what her captors were ever doing anymore.

She was just grateful she hadn't decided to bring her friends along with her on this 'adventure', though it could no longer be called that anymore. With a heavy heart, the Doctor finally had to admit that there was no escaping this time. This was her end. If her captors had figured put shat species she was (and she had to admit they were smart enough to have already done that), then there would be no regenerating this time. Only the tempting pull of darkness that she had wished so hard for with her last face.

The Doctor clenched and unclenched her right fist when she felt pins and needles in it with how tight the straps were.

As she was focusing on her hand, the door slamming open startled her and her eyes flew open. She looked over to see who it was this time and noticed it was someone she hadn't haf the pleasure of meeting before.

Unable to talk due to her sore throat, the Doctor resorted to instead keeping a watchful eye on the unknown man as he circled the room, taking it in, in all of its glory. Of glory could even be used to describe the cheap hospital room. The beeping in the background from the heart monitor the Doctor was hooked up to served as the only noise to disrupt the tense silence between her and the man wearing a white lab coat.

Eventually, after his journey around the outskirts of the room, the man stopped at the end of the bed by the Doctor's feet and she shamelessly lifted her head a bit to keep an eye on him. She hated to admit that there was nothing else she could do, but her own paranoia wouldn't leave her be. She didn't want to be in that room with him if she didn't know what he was doing.

The man unlcipped the clipboard from the end of the bed and the Doctor watched as his eyes skimmed whatever was written on there. The Doctor hadn't told them anything about herself, so whatever they'd found out (which she was proud to say was very little) during however long she'd been there would be written on that paper.

"Species... Time Lord," the man spoke with some kind of Russian accent, looking up at her over the clipboard, "subject unknown." He chuckled heartily and scribbled something on the clipboard, then replaced it at the end of the bed. "There is only one Time Lord left in the universe. The Last of The Time Lords. I hope you are enjoying your stay, _Doctor._"

The heart monitor picked up momentarily before it calmed down, the only sign of the spark of fear and unsurity the Doctor had felt. The man grinned, showing off his gnarly teeth, and rounded the bed until he was situated behind her head this time. The Doctor looked up as much as she could with her limited movement until she gave up when her neck started to ache.

"The other doctors, the _real_ doctors, tell me you have been refusing to eat your lunch," the man said as if chastising a mere child, "you must eat, Doctor, or you will be sent into your next regeneration."

The Doctor minutely shook her head, closing her eyes. The last time she'd eaten something they'd given her, she'd almost choked because the doctors had thought it funny to spray her with water while she was still eating. Apparently she hadn't been eating fast enough. At least, that's what she had been able to make out.

"Are you... refusing?" The man asked, his voice suddenly sinister with a slight hint of amusement.

"Yes," the Doctor croaked, standing her ground. She would rather starve than eat anything they gave her, anyway. It was just slop with a bit of colour to it and no taste. She'd much rather have a custard cream any day.

The man hummed in what seemed like a thoughtful way then chuckled. "I thought you'd say that," he said, "so I came prepared." The door creaked open as the man stepped out of it momentarily. When he came back in,  
he had a metal, medical trolley with him. On top of it was a jug filled with who-knows-what and a funnel connected to a tube. The Doctor tensed then immediately  
attempted to get up only to be pushed back down by the man. "You need to eat, Doctor, and until you learn to do it by yourself, this is how you will be fed," the man told her.

The Doctor resolutely shook her head and turned away from him, the most she could do with her limited movement.

Suddenly, the top half of the table the Doctor was strapped to was being elevated until she was in a sitting position. As relieved as the Doctor was to no longer be lying  
down, that relieved feeling vanished when the man wrapped another leather strap around her chest.

"Now," the man said when he was done tightening the strap, "open wide."

The Doctor stared at him as if he were stupid, refusing to follow his orders. Shaking his head, the man stepped forward and grabbed her jaw. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Make your choice, Doctor," he growled at her. Eyeing the tube to the side, slowly, hesitantly, the Doctor opened her mouth. The man put his thumb in between her teeth just in case she decided to close it again and reached for the trolley where he grabbed a black block. He slotted it in between her teeth on the left, making the Doctor lightly wince, and did the same with another block on the right after removing his thumb. Satisfied with his work, the man collected the tube and funnel and tilted the Doctor's head back as far as he could, then got to work forcing it down her throat. The Doctor gasped for breaths as the tube made its way down her throat and started wide eyed above her as the man grinned at her.

When the tube was far enough, the man carefully reached over for the metal jug. He brought it over and steadily started to pour the liquid down the funnel, resulting in the Doctor wincing at the feel of it. A tear fell from her eye and trailed down her cheek, making a clear line in the dirt she'd gathered since she'd been there.

"This," the man spoke, "is what happens when you refuse to eat. We still have a lot to learn about you, Doctor, you will not mess this up for us by dying."

About five minutes later, the tube was no longer down her throat and the blocks had been removed from her mouth, allowing her to close it again despite how painful it was. The man had left the room to either take the trolley back or to tell the other doctors that she had finally eaten, whatever he was doing, leaving the Doctor alone. The table she was on was still elevated and she still had a strap across her chest, keeping her still.

With nothing to do but wait, the Doctor closed her eyes and attempted to reach out to her TARDIS or her friends. It took a lot of energy out of her using her telepathy to talk to other beings across the universe and usually she needed to be touching said being, but she could do it. It would just take time and effort. Really, she wasn't looking for a rescue from her TARDIS anyway, she wanted to know her friends were home safe. She'd left them at home to give them a break in travelling and had meant to pick them up a week later, but had gotten distractedwhen the TARDIS sent her somewhere else instead. That's when she'd gotten captured and now she wasn't sure where the TARDIS was or whether her friends were safe or not.

* * *

**Cardiff, 2019...**

Feet kicked up on his desk in his new, makeshift office, Captain Jack Harkness swirled his biscuit in his cup of tea. Gwen was over at her own desk, keeping an eye on the rift as it had been oddly silent lately. There wasn't even any sign of a weevil running rampant.

"Anything?" Jack asked Gwen after he'd eaten his biscuit.

"Nope. Nothing. It's weird," Gwen said, frowning at the computer they'd set up as soon as they'd found their new base of operations.

"It's not like it to be so quiet for this long. Even after Miracle Day it was chaos. So why are they all so quiet now?" Jack spoke to himself as he removed his feet from the desk and replaced them with his elbows, resting his chin on his hands.

As he was listening to the background noise of Gwen typing on the keyboard, Jack's vortex manipulator beeped. With furrowed brows, Jack sat up straight and eyed it.

"Is it supposed to be doing that?" Gwen asked, turning to face him with as much confusion as he had.

"No," Jack said slowly, opening it up. On the screen he noticed he had two sets of coordinates with two different orders, both marked by the same person. Jack's eyes widened and he slowly started getting up from his seat.

"Jack? What is it? What's wrong?" Gwen questioned with worry.

"It's him. It's the Doctor. He needs my help," Jack said and ran to grab his coat from the back of the door.

"What? The Doctor? Your Doctor?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, Gwen, but I have to help him. I'll be back soon. I promise," Jack said and ran out of the room.

"Wha- Jack!" Gwen yelled to his retreating form.


	2. Chapter 2

**I'll Be Home Soon**

Chapter Two:

When Jack left the new Torchwood base, he was checking the first set of coordinates on his vortex manipulator. There was a short message underneath that read, '_Find my friends Ryan, Graham, and Yaz._' Then it was signed by the Doctor, just as the other message was. It was simple enough and luckily for him, the coordinates weren't that far. They were in Sheffield, Earth. He'd been there a couple of times solely for Torchwood related business, of course.

Inputting the first set of coordinates in the message, he pressed a button and suddenly he was no longer in Cardiff. When the white light cleared, he looked around and noticed he seemed to be on a simple street full of nice, little houses. He was outside of one specific house which is where the coordinates seemed to be. Shrugging his shoulders, he thought it would he as good a place as any to start looking for the Doctor's friends.

Jack stepped through the gate and headed up the steps leading to the door. As he raised his hand to knock on the door, a voice interrupted him.

"Can I help you, mate?" The voice asked.

Turning around, Jack spotted three people stood by the gate. One was an older gentleman wearing a woollen jumper over a polo shirt. The other was a young black man and a young black woman. They were all very attractive and Jack couldn't help flashing a dazzling smile, despite the fact that he was supposed to be looking for the Doctor's friends.

"Captain Jack Harkness," Jack introduced, stepping down from the doorstep to join them by the gate, "and you must be Graham, Ryan, and Yaz? Tell me I'm not mistaken."

"That depends who's asking," the girl he hoped was Yaz said.

"Look, I'm here on orders of the Doctor's. Do you know who that is? If so, I need your help."

"The Doctor? Is she alright? What happened?"

Jack decided to brush over the female pronouns for now (after all, who was he to say how regeneration did and didn't work) and tell them what he knew so far. ""That's the thing," he said, "I don't know. I haven't seen the Doctor in years and all of a sudden, I get two messages on my vortex manipulator. One of them telling me to find Ryan, Graham, and Yaz."

"On your what?" Ryan asked.

"Vortex manipulator. Portable time travel."

"Wicked."

"What was the other message?" Graham interrupted.

Sighing, Jack turned his vortex manipulator to face them, showing them the message.

"'_Not much time. Being watched. Help _'," Yaz read, "and then some numbers. What are they?"

"Coordinates. And not nice ones. Those coordinates lead to one of the worst places in the universe."

"Which is?"

"Grale. Well known across the universe for performing illegal experiments on all kinds of species. People thought Grale was destroyed by the Time Lords in the Time War, but a few centuries ago, they made their presence known again," Jack explained with a grim look.

"Oh, my God," Graham muttered, "well, we need to get the Doc outta there. What are we standin' around for?"

"We can't just go in guns blazing, that's an easy way to get killed. The Gralians are merciless. We need a plan."

Sighing, Graham stepped passed Jack and headed up the steps to the house, "you're right. We can talk in here. Cuppa?"

* * *

**Grale, 6178**

The Doctor blinked open her eyes, only to close them again at the weird feeling she got when opening them. She couldn't feel her fingers or her face. Everything was numb and cold. So cold. She couldn't breathe for some reason. Everything was so disorienting, but something told her not to breathe, to hold her breath because that's what they wanted.

Opening her eyes again, this time she kept them open so she could see what was going on. Everything around her was murky but she could see wavy figures wearing white. There was something in front of her- not that she could see it, more like feel it. Reaching forward slowly, the Doctor reached for whatever was in front of her. A second later, her fingers touched something. Something clear. A tank. She was in a tank underwater.

Panic overwhelmed her and she looked up for an exit. There didn't seem to be anything there and she reached a hand up to feel around, feeling relieved when her hands didn't make contact with anything. Uncrossing her legs, the Doctor pushed off from the ground and propelled herself upwards towards the surface of the water.

As soon as she broke the surface, she took in a great, big lungful of air, not realising how much she missed it until she was breathing it again.

"Two minutes," a voice said, "a new record. Last time it took you five to realise what was happening."

The Doctor scowled, glaring a hole in the floor as she was roughly dragged out of the water by two of the doctors wearing blood stained coats.

"We'll try again tomorrow," the man with a stop watch and clipboard said. "Be ready, Doctor."


	3. Chapter 3

**I'll Be Home Soon**

Chapter Three:

"Grab hold of my arm and _don't let go_," Jack told the Doctor's friends seriously. Ryan grabbed Jack's left arm, as did Graham, while Yaz held his right arm.

Satisfied they were holding on, Jack input the second set of coordinates into his vortex mantipulator and, with one last check, sent them lightyears across the universe in search of their friend.

The second Ryan's feet hit solid ground after the God awful way of travelling, his let go of Jack's arm and leant on the nearest wall to catch his bearings. His stomach felt like it was doing a somersault at a gymnast competition.

"Mate, what the hell was that?" Ryan demanded of Jack.

"Vortex manipulator, nasty way of time travel, but useful in a tight spot," Jack explained and looked around at where they'd appeared.

They were in an empty corridor, all the walls a drab shade of grey and made of concrete. At either ends of the hallway were two different doors. One, a sterile, white metal door, and the other a barely standing-up wooden door.

"Where are we? Is this that place you mentioned... Grale?" Graham asked, grasping for the name for a moment.

Jack looked at his VM.

"Looks like it, yeah. We're at the right place, at least," he said.

"So, where's the Doctor?" Ryan asked, looking at both of the doors.

"I doubt she'd have us teleport right in the middle of things, she must have known this corridor would be empty. We'll just have to go find her," Jack decided and headed for the more stable looking door.

"Wait," Yaz called, "what if there's someone on the other side of the door?"

Jack nodded and took out his revolver.

"Good point."

oOoOoOo

**Grale, 6178...**

"Wakey, wakey, Time Lord," a voice invaded the Doctor's sleep addled mind.

Blinking, the Doctor managed to open her heavy eyes. She was tired, exhausted even. She just wanted to sleep and perhaps never wake up. She knew the so-called Doctors wherever she was would have a lot to say about that, though.

"There's a good girl," the doctor, Antoni, grinned, flashing his crooked teeth.

Looking around, the Doctor noticed she was once again surrounded by men dressed in stained, white lab coats. It wasn't a surprise anymore. Almost anytime they came to see her, they would arrive in a group. Like a posse of trigger happy scientists who had found the perfect specimin. Which, she supposed, is exactly what was happening anyway.

"We have the perfect exercise for you today, dear," one of the men said and the Doctor eyed them with worry.

Nothing good ever came from those words, the Doctor had found.

One by one, the straps around her wrists, ankles, and forehead were undone. Antoni took charge and sat the Doctor up, supporting her when she slumped against him. It was humiliating, but she had no control over her body at the moment. She was tired, dehydrated, malnourished, and just all out exhausted. What Antoni had been force feeding her for the past few days was hardly doing anything for her in the way of energy.

Antoni helped her down off the bed she'd been strapped to and one of the other men came to assist him in helping her up.

"Where are you taking me?" The Doctor tried to ask, however, the only noise that came out was a weak croak. Her throat was dry and scratchy, and it burned to even attempt to talk. Tears of frustration gathered in her eyes and she squeezed them shut.

"What was that, Doctor?" Antoni asked in his Russian-like accent, putting his head near hers.

The Doctor shook her head, not even attempting to speak again as she opened her eyes and allowed them to lead her to wherever they were going.

Antoni hm-ed and leaned away from her just in time for them to approach a steel door. One of the scientists stepped up to it and used a ring of keys to unlock and open it.

The door swung open with a loud creak, the noise going straight through the Doctor. She clenched her jaw and went with Antoni and the other man, the pair practically carrying her through the doorway and into the bright room.

"You know, you are nothing like our other subjects," one of the men, the leader of the posse (if there was one) started as the Doctor was propped up in a large chair. "You are different, Doctor."

A squeaking noise reached the Doctor's ears and she turned her head to watch as one of the men connected a hose to a rusty tap. She tensed, having had the displeasure of being on the receiving end of the hose before.

Two other men in white coats strapped thick, leather straps across her wrists and around her ankles. One went over her chest to keep her as still as possible. Thankfully, they refrained from putting one over her forehead this time.

"You have seen much. Experienced much. Loved and lost many," the leader continued droning on.

He grabbed the Doctor's jaw and forced her to look at him again then let go to pace the floor.

"You know a lot. Much more than the average man. You have had the pleasure of being privvy to some of the universe's greatest secrets," the man stopped when he was in front of the Doctor and pivoted on the spot to face her.

The man managing the hose strolled up to stand beside him, the hose held tightly in his hands.

"There is one secret we would like to know, just one," the leader said, approaching her.

Defiantly, the Doctor stared back into his cold, blue eyes and rose a questioning eyebrow.

"Doctor who?" He said. "Who are you? What is your name, Doctor?"

The Doctor tensed and swallowed, but didn't look away from him.

With a breathy chuckle, the man backed up and rejoined the one with the hose. A nod of his head to the other man and the hose was turned on.

A powerful jet of cold water assaulted the Doctor and she was unable to help the surprised gasp that escaped her. She closed her eyes tightly and turned her head away to avoid drowning, but the water attacking her torso hurt.

When the water was eventually turned off, the Doctor was left soaking wet and freezing cold, shivers racking her entire body. She was sure her lips would be blue, judging by the colour of her nails.

The leader of the group of men strode back up to her, his hands casually clasped behind his back.

He leant forward, his nose almost touching her own.

"I'm going to ask you again," he said, "what is your name?"


End file.
